For My Brother
by Phantom Ou
Summary: A one-shot that revolves around Luka Macken and Hannah Anafeloz. "Those words, although they are his last, engrave themselves in Hannah's heart for an eternity."


**_For My Brother_ - One-shot**

**This is more or less an elaboration on what has happened between Luka Macken and Hannah Anafeloz. Luka is so brave, caring and adorable, and I greatly pity his death. With the extravagant free time in my hands, I've created yet another one-shot. I hope you can enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji.**

* * *

"_Sacrificing your happiness for the happiness of the one you love, is by far, the truest type of love_." - **Henry David Thoreau**

* * *

From the moment that she met the boy who has summoned her, her instincts flare to tell her that he is far from a meek and regular human.

Humans, generally speaking, are asinine and detestable beings who struggle over mundane troubles that are impelled by their own irrational impulses. Pride, greed, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth and wrath—those are the sins that define you as 'human'. If you are driven by those selfish emotions, undoubtedly, your life will take a drastic dip for the worse.

Those ubiquitous humans breed like cockroaches and they scatter everywhere. They are blinded and deceived by their own chimerical self-worth, and they indulge in jealousy with others. It is bizarrely easy to incite them into a wrathful tantrum in which they commit even more mistakes to add onto their list of inconceivable length.

And, they desire for everything. Everything in the world they seek to obtain, whether it is fortune, fame or love. They set foot on this planet and automatically label it as their own, scavenging the vast area for treasures. They have slaughtered countless of animals and disrupted the natural environment. Moreover, they are unforgivably lazy and indolent. The destruction they have brought about with their dirty, soiled hands, while actuated by petty, meager feelings, they willingly neglect and instead concentrate on their own welfare.

Simply put, demons are doing the world a favor by gradually ridding it of the very nuisance called 'humans'.

Even so, Hannah has grown tired of this prosaic and banal process. The boring humans' souls are revoltingly tasteless, with the flavors of the disembodied spirits corresponding well with the respective individuals' characters. All the humans share the same, tedious qualities: selfishness, insignificance, and culpability. It is difficult to stomach these dull and insipid souls, and thus, Hannah has withdrawn from consuming these souls on a daily basis.

However, there comes a fateful day where a powerful prick in her mind nags her about a summoning. Therefore, she materializes before the person who has requested for her service in compensation for the said person's soul.

In front of her is a young boy, who could not have been much older than seven or eight, with slate grey eyes and a shock of hair the color of vermilion. He is dressed in hackneyed clothing; a plain sleeve-shirt, accompanied by brown trousers.

It induces her inquisitiveness, really, for what can a little boy such as him wish for that can be important enough for him to sacrifice his own life? The dainty smile that caresses his lips gives off the notion that he is frivolous and carefree. Hannah is almost afraid then that this would be another trite excursion for a soul, since it appears as though this boy cannot be taken seriously—much like the majority of the other humans.

Suddenly, the boy bursts into a series of cheers at her arrival, spouting on cheerily about how the theory of demons existing actually works. He then runs to the hilltop, spreading his arms widely as if to encompass the entire village below. He breathes in the fresh air as the setting sun sends forth a dwindling light, which tinges his hair into a golden-orange hue and casts shadows behind him.

"I wish to... annihilate this whole village and everyone in it!"

The declaration astounds her greatly, and the sole response that she can manage is to silently blink at him.

The boy turns around to flash her a huge grin, and he scratches his head in a sheepish manner.

She nearly misses his quiet addition that is spoken under his breath, "...For my brother."

* * *

Soon, Hannah learns of his name: Luka Macken.

She trails behind him as he leads her through the grassy fields. Her perceptive eyes do not leave his back for a second. This peculiar boy has successfully piqued her interest, due to his stunning request.

Although she has agreed to fulfill it, a deep curiosity lingers within her. Why in the world would a young boy such as him pine to obliterate the village and its occupants? Why would he be foolish enough to offer his own life just for a relative?

"Look, miss!"

At his jubilant voice, Hannah looks toward to where he is crouching at to see patches of flowers. Her empty expression informs him of her ignorance of its appellation, and Luka mirthfully classifies them, "Bluebells! These are bluebells, miss. Aren't they delightful?"

He plucks one from its rightful position and rushes over to her excitedly. Before a chance is initiated for her to recoil, he tugs her by the arm, urging her to stoop. Once she does, he takes the liberty to place the flower into her hair, tangling the stem with her pale violet threads.

Appalled but taciturn, the demon mutely stares at the zealous boy. Luka's smile is unaffected by her dour and sullen disposition, and it instead evolves into a wide grin, "The bluebell looks absolutely beautiful on you, miss! When I put it on my brother, he shook it off."

He returns to enthusiastically humming and skipping through the fields, while her gaze bores into him. This boy, he appears as though he does not contain an adequate level of hatred or violence within him in order to choose to destroy a village. Has his brother really instigated him to desire to commit such a dreadful act and subject himself to death?

Absentmindedly, her hand raises to feel the soft flower intertwined in her hair. This boy truly is gullible. Why is he being so kind to a demon like her? Demons and humans do not mingle, and that is self-evident. It is always going to be strictly business between them. Accomplishment and remuneration, that is the key point in their association. He tells her of his wish, and she completes it in return for his soul.

That is all that it is, and will ever going to be.

Her fingers enclose around the flower, and she tears it from her hair to release it into the wind where it carries the small flower away in its smooth breeze.

* * *

The momentous day is soon to arrive.

The demon woman and her servants, the triplets, set out to exterminate the village through means of combustion. The hungry fire ravenously swallows the shabby buildings, its flames engulfing the area like a deadly red and orange existence. The structures built collapse in a trice, and dense emissions of smoke cloud the place.

Luka is perched on the hilltop, looking down at the burning village with a face void of any expression. He betrays of no emotion, but inside him an intense mixture of them is boiling and churning.

Should he be feeling sad that these people, who all have families to love and cherish, are lost in the fire?

Or should he be feeling happy that these same villagers who have mistreated and ostracized he and his brother when their parents passed away, forcing them to resort to thieving in order to maintain a full stomach, are among the deceased?

There are some tumultuous children that bully Luka for the mere reason that he is an orphan, and a baker has once thrown a stone at him. Their vehemence has caused several unsightly bruises and cuts to be thrust upon his pale skin.

But in truth, Luka does not particularly shed resentment toward them for acting so violently. Perhaps it is their nature, and they cannot help themselves. Or perhaps Luka, in some way, does deserve the debasement. Possibly being bereft of parents is a reprehensible circumstance, for the untended children are likely to go astray or be submerged under depression.

Still, it is not as though Luka is lonely. In fact, he is never lonely or grieving for he has his brother by his side. Although he misses Mum and Dad greatly, he is able to tell them to rest assured wherever their souls may be, for he is fortunate enough to be granted such a wonderful sibling.

Jim has always protected him and defended him against the belligerent villagers. He has always shared the majority of his scanty portion of food so that Luka will not starve. He is always the one who would bandage his wounds and comfort him. He is who Luka admires, for, most importantly, the audacious Jim has showed him love and kindness.

But, his beloved older brother is different from him for he harbors an extreme aversion at the villagers. He is constantly cursing them and pining for their demises. He is pugnacious and inclined toward bitter quarrels with them. Typically, he would attempt to steal more than necessary for the purpose of irking them even further.

Sometimes, Luka would wonder why Jim hates them so much. Nonetheless, he wants his brother to be as joyful as he is. Perhaps just being with Luka will not affirm his happiness. Perhaps, Jim needs more. And the one thing that is hindering this is the village and its residents.

For the sake of his brother, Luka would be more than glad to sacrifice the petty life of his.

There remains befuddling questions which weigh heavily upon his mind, and the complex retrospection wrinkles the sole of his forehead. Even though he would have liked to have been given time to reflect on them, deplorably, he cannot afford to waste any more valuable minutes for his brother calls for him.

"Luka! Luka!" Jim crows, rushing up from behind him, with a big grin slapped upon his face and sheer exhilaration ringing from his tone. His finger jabs at the wrecked village, and his breaths, although he is compulsively catching them, sound out briskly and eagerly, "The village... The villagers! They're all bloody dead, do you see? Everyone is dead!"

Jim then exclaims in exultation and chants about their deaths, prancing around in circles. The smile that is bestowed upon his lips brings utmost merriment to Luka, and the little brother joins in his brother's lively celebration.

Suddenly, Jim halts in his tracks, causing Luka, who was following him closely, to clumsily collide into his back at the ungraceful stop. His brother whirls around and clasps Luka's shoulders fervently, greed glinting in his azure eyes.

"Luka! Let's raid this damned village. We can take anything we want and stomp on their ashes! Those ugly villagers probably left tons of treasures behind!"

Without waiting for his consent—for surely, his little brother listens to everything that he says anyway—Jim tugs Luka along, running to the distasteful residue of the accursed village. He surveys the area, finding satisfaction to ignite within him when he perceives the pathetic, charred corpses, and notices how the path forks at a two-way intersection, dividing to the west and to the east.

"Oi, Luka. I'll go east, and you go west. We meet back here after gathering anything that we want. Try to find as much valuables as you can," Jim instructs, unable to contain the glee that bursts from him.

However, when his little brother fails to respond, Jim turns to face him fully.

Luka, feeling the questioning gaze of his brother, snaps out of his daze and grants him a reassuring smile. But, when he sees his brother's platinum blond hair that frames his face in a natural tousle and his eyes the color of a clear and unclouded sky, his breath is hitched his throat.

Here it is. This is Luka's last time to be with his brother.

Abruptly, his little brother embraces him, and Jim is startled. Impatiently pushing him off with a skeptical raise of his eyebrow, Jim scolds him, "What are you doing, Luka? We're just going to be separated for a little while. Let's meet back here, all right?"

Luka grins in a genuine manner, his granite eyes dancing in rapture—and for a second, Jim compares the color of them to the ashes that the fire has left behind. "I'm so grateful... that you're happy, big brother."

He observes as Jim blinks for several moments before he smiles and bids him goodbye with a wave. His older brother then scampers off in the east direction to loot for goods, leaving Luka alone for the first and last time.

* * *

"Are you scared?" Hannah, the demon, asks quietly. "Of death?"

She steps over slowly and cautiously, the soles of her feet brushing against the debris and rubble caused by the detrimental fire. Her compelling, crimson red eyes flicker at the recondite boy, with a covert desire to gain knowledge about this abstruse child.

"Scared..." Luka repeats, carefully enunciating the word.

For a moment, Hannah believes that she has inquired a pointless question. This boy is wholly aware of the consequences. He must have come, thoroughly prepared and equipped with nerve for his upcoming death.

"I'm terrified."

Stunned, she looks up sharply to see the boy shedding tears while trembling and clenching his arm.

_In the end, he is still just a little boy._

"But..." The boy forces a quivering smile on his face. "My life belongs to my brother. If he lives on happily... I'll be content. Even though I've longed to go off beyond this village to view more of the world, I'm not worthy enough. My big brother... he's my future. He will see the world for me."

The boy turns to face her, the smile growing with confidence. "And, I won't be lonely! I will join Mum and Dad soon! I miss them so much. That's why I'm ready. You can take my life, miss." He closes his eyes and stretches out his arms in anticipation for the inevitable.

However, Hannah has found her own movements to be paralyzed by this little boy's words. How can a human be so willing, be so selfless as to give up their hopes and dreams for this love that they speak of? Is it truly that important to this boy?

"...And, miss?"

Solemnly, she gazes at him to see that he has opened his eyes one final time, and the gentleness in his grey irises are brimming with gratitude.

"Thank you."

Those words, although they are his last, engrave themselves in Hannah's heart for an eternity.

For what human has ever thanked her for anything? What human has actually ever showed their acknowledgement for her services, and possessed the courage to tell her and accept their death?

He is the bravest human that she has ever encountered, and as she gradually approaches the boy—no, Luka, a sinking and heavy feeling grips her soul. It reduces her actions to a sluggish pace, and she is able to identify this as reluctance.

Does she feel guilty for taking a precious soul such as his? That bright and pure spirit should remain in his vessel, and it should persist living.

But, a demon's aesthetics cannot go ignored, and the contract must be carried out as promised, with absolutely no exceptions. And this is the first time that she finds herself regretting this unalterable rule.

Slowly, she grasps his face between her hands, inwardly shaking at the hesitation that pounds within her.

Even so, this is performed in less than a second, with her gritting her teeth in indignation.

His body goes limp, and it collapses on the ground where it is still and rigid. The vibrancy, the energy, the kindness that has animated the body is forever lost.

Hannah gazes into his steel-colored irises that are deficient of any light, and portray nothing but a hollow darkness. Nevertheless, in her mind, she pictures the cheerful boy, with eyes that gleam like the potent sun, who has placed the bluebell in her hair.

"...You're welcome, Luka Macken."


End file.
